


The Office but it's Hetalia

by Chucychito



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: All in the same universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Office, Countries Using Human Names, Crack Crossover, Crack Treated Seriously, I Don't Even Know, I just love both shows so much, Implied Relationships, One Shot Collection, Slow To Update, Sorry Not Sorry, The Office, but they're not countries, confessional cutscenes, like the show
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2018-12-15 15:25:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11808777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chucychito/pseuds/Chucychito
Summary: A collection of one shots revolving around the employees of a struggling paper company (Dunder Mifflin) and their attempts to deal with (and by deal with I mean try not to slap) their self-proclaimed "awesome" boss who is actually just an idiot.





	1. Diversity Day

**Author's Note:**

> Why did I write this? The better question is why wouldn't I have written this?

"It's Diversity Day," Elizabeta said to the camera with an unidentifiable expression. "Corporate mandated it, but for some reason they're letting Gilbert take full control of the meeting." She glanced out the window behind her, where the office manager was laying dramatically across Francis's desk in his best impression of the infamous "draw me like one of your French girls" scene. When she dragged her gaze back to the camera, her posture was much more pained and resigned. "I don't think they wanted to send anyone to have to deal with him."

* * *

  
"We have a lot of diversity in this office," Gilbert said proudly once everyone was gathered in the conference room. "I, myself, am an awesome Prussian--"

"What's that?" Alfred, who was sitting in the front row so he could stretch his long legs as far forward as he could, asked obnoxiously.

Gilbert faltered, but continued talking as if Alfred hadn't spoken. "I mean, in this room alone, what do we have? A Brit, two Italians, a Mexican--"

"Whoa, whoa," Antonio laughed awkwardly and glanced around the room uncertainly. "I hope you are not talking about me?"

"Now, Antonio," Gilbert said sympathetically, glancing pointedly at the camera. "It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Beside Antonio, Lovino started cackling so suddenly he very nearly fell out of his chair. Antonio absent-mindedly caught his shoulder before he could hurt himself.

His ever-present smile slipped a bit, but it held fast. "I'm not Mexican."

"But you speak Spanish," Felicks pointed out with a smirk, not even looking up from where he was inspecting his nails in the back of the room. (The camera zoomed in on his legs casually splayed across Toris's lap and panned up to meet the latter's flustered expression.)

Lovino wheezed loudly and wiped tears from his eyes.

Antonio laughed again, but the sound was much more forced than before. "Mexico isn't the only place that speaks Spanish." At everyone's prolonged silence (well, other than Lovino's childish giggling that was beginning to sound mildly alarming), he began to sound a bit more despairing. "How about Spain? You know, Spanish... Spain..."

"You're Spainish?" Gilbert asked suspiciously. "Hm, could've sworn you were Mexican."

"Nope," Antonio said through a gritted smile as Lovino (for all intents and purposes) started dying once again and doubled over to lean on Antonio for support.

("Spainish?" Antonio repeated to the camera later, aghast. He seemed at a loss for words and just stared blankly ahead for a few moments. Finally, he murmured to himself, "A Dios mío.")

("Mexican," Lovino snorted again, and the cameraman would never say it out loud but this was the happiest he'd ever seen the young Italian. He shook his head. "That's funny.")

("Of course I knew he was from Spain," Gilbert grinned guiltily. "Who do you think I am? Ignorant? Their football team beats ours every single year and I wanted to get back at him for it.")

"Anyway, back to the point at hand," Gilbert clapped his hands, then winked at the camera at the unintentional pun (which zoomed in on Roderich and Elizabeta exchanging irritated expressions at the situation). "The point of Diversity Day," he began grandly, kicking one foot up on a chair and leaning his elbow on it, "is to celebrate our differences and and share details about our individual cultures."

"Wow," Yao snorted quietly to Kiku, "he must've rehearsed that."

"So who wants to go first?" Gilbert asked expectantly.

The silence in the room was honestly kind of sad.

After a few moments stretched past with Gilbert refusing to step in and make things less awkward, Alfred finally spoke up.

"Well. I'm American," he said with a thousand-watt smile.

Gilbert waved his hand dismissively. "Doesn't count when we're in America."

"Well, I think it does," Alfred frowned. "It's my culture."

"Diversity," Gilbert drew the word out with a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Is about the stuff outside the country we're currently in."

  
"Well, that's not really fair," Alfred protested. "Isn't this just about culture? Why can't I celebrate mine?"

"It's called "white privilege" and we celebrate it every day." Unfortunately, the only one to have caught the soft-spoken HR rep's quiet remark was Francis, who snorted loudly and clapped a hand over his mouth to hide it.

"Okay," Gilbert said with another long-suffering sigh. "Anyone else? Kiku, what about you?"

The young man looked startled at being suddenly addressed, and he stammered for a few moments before he could form actual words.

"Um, me?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes in mock irritation. "Yes, you! Come on, you have to be from some awesome Asian country."

Kiku's lips twitched as he briefly wondered whether he should be offended or not. "I am from Japan," he agreed.

"Hey, that's cool!" Gilbert said in excitement. "That's the place with the anime and the tentacle porn, right?"

Kiku's face flushed and his eyes widened in horror. "Well, yes, kind of, but it's not all like that--"

Gilbert finger-gunned him. "That's the spirit. Stereotypes are unawesome."

Kiku responded by leaning forward and hiding his face in his hands.

"Alright! Who's next? Come on, don't make me call on you like first graders."

"Gilbert, we have work to do," Arthur said wearily, as if tired of having to put up with the manager for the seven years he'd been there.

Gilbert made a noise of disgust. "Work, work, work, that's all you ever care about, Arthur."

"While I am at work, yes," Arthur retorted.

"Well, you know what? The office isn't a place for work," Gilbert said irritably. "It is an awesome place to come every morning and have fun."

"I don't think that's how it works," Elizabeta said carefully, flicking her gaze to the camera.

"You're just not looking at it the right way," Gilbert insisted. "I can bet you anything this job that you have right now, in this building, is tons more fun than starving to death in a box because you don't have a job to make money."

"Boxes can be fun," Heracles said dreamily.

"That is not the point." Gilbert rolled his eyes.

"Okay, this meeting is going nowhere," Roderich finally said, getting to his feet. "I am going back to work."

"You can't do that!" Gilbert protested, running to stand in front of the door so Roderich couldn't leave. "We have to finish or they'll yell at me again."

"But this is pointless," Arthur groused.

Gilbert gasped dramatically. "Arthur, are you racist?"

Arthur sputtered. "What? No!"

"You just said that diversity is pointless."

"I did not! I said the meeting was pointless!"

"The meeting about diversity!"

"This is exactly what I meant!" Roderich crossed his arms and huffed. "All we're ever going to do is argue, so there's no point in continuing the lecture."

"Guys, come on," Gilbert whined pathetically. "The letter said the discussion had to be at least half an hour long. We have another twenty-five minutes of this, so sit back down and let's talk about diversity like we're supposed to." Under his breath, he added just to Roderich, "I don't want Natalya to have to come down."

Roderich and Gilbert held meaningful stubborn eye contact for a few moments longer, neither one wanting to back down first. It was only when Francis coughed lewdly that Roderich jumped slightly and (face reddening) sat back beside Elizabeta.

Grinning smugly, Gilbert slid away from the door and crossed his arms. "Now who wants to go next?"

* * *

  
"We only had to be in there for another five minutes before he let us leave," Ivan said with a cheery smile (the camera shook a bit as the cameraman tried to keep his nervous hands steady). "I do not think he liked to be hearing about where I am from."


	2. Promote Yao part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yao wants a promotion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm updating this from my broken phone please forgive any errors until I can properly edit it. (I know there are some but dang it I'm doing my best)

"I've been the "office administrator" for about four years now, and I hate it," Yao said with a bitter twist of his lips. "It's been getting more and more apparent that I'm not leaving, so every year I ask Gilbert for a promotion, and every year he has a new excuse. Last year it was that he forgot how to speak English so he couldn't understand what I was asking." He smoothed out the wrinkles in his pristine business shirt. "This year I'm getting that promotion."

* * *

  
The door to Gilbert's office flew open and Yao stormed in, slamming both of his hands on the desk and knocking several trinkets over. "AIYAA! GIVE ME A PROMOTION!"

Gilbert, who'd merely glanced up at the sound of the door, looked unsurprised and very uninterested. "That was a little loud; couldn't really hear what you were saying."

Yao grit his teeth. "I deserve a promotion, GIlbert. It's been four years."

Gilbert sighed and leaned back in his office chair (only weeks ago, he'd agonized over a catalog of chairs and couldn't make a decision for which one to buy, so he'd called his brother up from the warehouse to choose for him. It had been an episode-worthy mess that will probably be written about in more detail at another time). "That's a long process that'll take a lot of time for me to get approved, and I'm just so busy right now--"

Yao leaned forward and plucked the folder Gilbert had been looking over when he'd barged in. He held it up to the camera to show a blank page save for a bunch of doodles and the phrase "I am so cool :)" scribbled all over it.

"Really?" Yao deadpanned.

Gilbert shifted. "Yes."

Yao threw the folder down in disgust. "I'm not asking for much," he insisted, lowering his voice. "Just a new position. Sales, maybe even accounting. I don't care-- just anything but another year as administrator."

"Look, Yao," Gilbert scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. "I like you; you're a good guy--"

"THEN GIVE ME THE PROMOTION!"

"-- but getting it approved by corporate is a big can of worms I don't feel like opening right now."

Yao crossed his arms. "Call Natalya. Right now.

Gilbert almost fell out of his chair. "What? Are you insane?"

"Call her up, aiyaa!"

"I can't just do that! I promised Ivan not to call her unless it was an emergency--"

"This is an emergency! If I have to spend another year like this I'll quit!"

The two stared across the desk at each other in mutual irritation for a few seconds, Yao bending over the desk so the two were eye-level. Finally, Gilbert sighed.

"Can we talk about this tomorrow, maybe? My cat died last night and I'm still upset about it--"

"You don't even have a cat!"

"Not anymore!"

Yao threw his hands up in the air. "Fine. Tomorrow, then."

* * *

"Oh, no, I'm not done yet," Yao promised the camera, moving his head so his pony-tail fell over his shoulder. "I'll have the promotion by the end of the day-- just wait and see!"

* * *

"Why haven't I given it to him yet?" Gilbert repeated the cameraman's question. "I don't know man-- he's good where he's at. And then I'd have to do the paperwork to promote him, and then I'd have to find a new office administrator and do all that paperwork... And also I just try and stay away from Natalya." A heavy pause. "Not that she's scary or anything. I'm totally not scared of her-- I just don't want to bother her because I'm so awesomely nice." His self-satisfied smirk twisted into a frown and his eyebrows knit together. "You shouldn't interview Liz about this. She lies."

* * *

"Really? He said that?" Elizabeta shook her head with a roll of her eyes. "Classic Gil," she muttered irritably, before schooling her expression and looking back at the camera. "The last meeting Gilbert had to attend at corporate, he made me come with for "moral support"." Elizabeta crossed her arms smugly. "Feliciano came too, and Ludwig, and then he made Arthur and Roderich follow us in another car just in case something bad happened to us. So, yes, he is scared of Natalya." Her not-so-concealed smile slipped and her eyes glazed over like she was remembering a particular incident. Her next words were quiet and ominous. "But then again, aren't we all?"

* * *

"Oh hey, Yao," Tino said brightly upon entering the break room kitchen.

Yao, standing before the fridge and casually re-arranging the plastic letter magnets on the door, made a polite noise of acknowledgement but didn't look up from his task.

"Long week, yeah?" Tino made his way to the coffee-maker and started to make himself a cup. "Feels like it, anyway."

"Mhm. It's only Tuesday."

Tino laughed, but his face flushed in a way that betrayed his awkward aim for nonchalance. It was hard to make small talk with someone you hardly ever spoke to in the first place.

"Exactly," he said weakly. He glanced uncertainly at the fridge, where Yao was still moving letters around. "Um, do you think I could get in there for a second? I need milk for this coffee."

"Oh, yeah, sure," Yao said. He stepped away and crossed his arms with a pleased expression. "I'm done, anyway."

Tino raised his eyebrows at the message: " LUNCH MEATING AT WH GILBER NO INVITED".

"What's this about?" he asked curiously.

"They didn't have another "T" or "E", so "meeting" and "Gilbert" are spelled wrong, and I couldn't finish the word "not"," Yao said mournfully. "But I think the message is still pretty clear." He paused. "As long as it's obvious that "WH" is warehouse."

"I figured. Any particular reason you're instigating this meeting?" Tino would be lying if he said he wasn't interested.

Yao smiled. "Oh, there's many, but we can talk about them at lunch."

With that, the taller man made his dramatic exit.

(Through the window of the break room, the camera zoomed in all the way across the office to Gilbert's main office, where the boss was holding the blinds open so he could watch the exchange from afar. He was glowering, but when he caught sight of the camera angled at him he let the blinds fall to block the view).

* * *

Unsurprisingly, the first one to show up at the unexpected meeting in the warehouse was Roderich.

"Welcome!" Yao said brightly, although in a noticeable whisper. "I'm glad you decided to join me today."

"Yes, well, you advertised it like this was a Gilbert hate club, and I have a lot of hate to release about him," Roderich said stiffly, crossing his arms.

"That is very good to hear," Yao nodded.

The next one to arrive was Tino, followed by Elizabeta and Alfred, and soon enough, the whole office (minus the manager) was gathered in the little corner of the warehouse that Yao had set apart for the meeting (moving boxes of paper to surround them, giving the feeling of being in a small room.)

"Now what is this about?" Arthur grumbled irritably. He crossed his arms. "I don't like having to stand so close to Francis."

"You wound me," Francis said mildly, inching a step closer to the grumpy Brit. If possible, Arthur scowled even harder.

"Gilbert won't give me a promotion," Yao said flatly.

Lovino groaned loudly. "What the Hell do you expect us to do? That's your problem."

"We can strike," Francis offered.

"Let's not," Matthew objected politely.

"Not after last time," Elizabeta agreed darkly.

"We can burn the building down," Ivan suggested, ever-cheerful.

"And what, exactly, would that solve?" Alfred asked.

Ivan shrugged. "Would be fun."

"Why don't we stray away from ideas that involve arson," Yao cut in wearily.

"How about you pretend to start your own paper company, take some of Gilbert's employees, and threaten to steal all of his company's sales?" Feliciano proposed.

"Or we could just, like, guilt trip him." Felicks sounded bored. "How many of us are there? Like fifteen?" He gave a dismissive snort. "He'll give in. They always do."

"The manner in which you said that was very concerning," Kiku spoke up warily.

"What? What did I say?"

("I talk a lot," Felicks said seriously to the camera. "Sometimes I tune myself out and miss everything I say.")

"Gilbert is pretty stubborn though," Matthew cautioned.

Elizabeta snickered. "No, he's a baby. Felicks's idea is worth a shot. If worse comes to worse I can just punch him for you."

"Eliza no," Roderich said in exasperation.

"Can I make posters?" Feliciano asked in excitement.

"Why in the world would you need to make posters, stupid brother!" Lovino knocked Feliciano's shoulder lightly.

"Yes, Feli, you can make posters," Yao conceded.

"Yay!"

"This meeting was entirely unnecessary," Arthur said with a roll of his eyes.

"That's gonna end up being your catchphrase if you don't ever lighten up," Alfred remarked casually.

Arthur simply glowered.

"So... To summarize, we are to make Gilbert feel bad?" Kiku asked with a frown.

"We do that every single day," Arthur muttered. "This was such a waste of time."

"Oh yeah, that's right!" Alfred turned excitedly to Matthew. "Mattie's real good at making people feel bad and pointing out their flaws. He could probably see Yao promoted before three o'clock.

Matthew looked alarmed. "No no! I'm not that mean!"

"He made me cry once," Alfred said conspiratorially to everyone gathered.

Matthew flushed. "Well that's because you're you!"

Alfred's cheerful expression shattered and his eyes filled with tears. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Wow, he is good," Francis whispered to himself. Despite himself, Arthur nodded solemnly in agreement.

"Now everyone--" Yao broke off as a row of boxes was lifted off the floor and slowly pulled away from their hideout via forklift. Inside the forklift, Ludwig sighed in exasperation.

"What did I tell you guys about making forts in the warehouse?"

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what an office administrator is but Google says it's the worst job in an office so...

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if there's going to be any real "shippy" moments in any of the one shots, just implied ones in the background. I may expand upon a couple, though. I am modeling Finland and Sweden off of Phyllis and Bob Vance, so it's almost certain they'll have a few minor scenes lol (like the flowers, or the 1000 dollar hug, etc). Also, the ships will not necessarily follow the ones from the Office (like even though Belarus takes the place of Jan, and Prussia takes the place of Michael, there will be no unhealthy relationship between them.)
> 
> I really can't decide if I like Prussia/Hungary, Prussia/Austria, or Austria/Hungary the best, so I guess it's up to fate to determine what happens.
> 
> So let me know what you guys think! I'm always up for feedback.


End file.
